


Freedom In My Lungs But Sin On My Lips

by Underestimated_amateur



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alfred's POV, American Revolution, Colony America (Hetalia), Denial of Feelings, Everyone but Alfred is only mentioned, First Meetings, Internalized Homophobia, Jacking off, M/M, Masturbation, Religious Guilt, Sexual Content, Sorry Not Sorry, World War I, implied internalized homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-17 01:09:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9297545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Underestimated_amateur/pseuds/Underestimated_amateur
Summary: It was wrong to feel this way for another man. Shamefully, passionately wrong, but maybe that’s what gave it its appeal. He liked to do things he should not, things anyone would look him in the eyes and tell him no for. He only hoped God could not see his sin.





	

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: This goes through America's founding days, his revolution, and WWI. Also Ivan doesn't know about his 'nightly actives.' And I feel like back then Alfred was hella more religious than he is now, but that's only my opinion I guess.

He was raised on cornfield dreams, home grown wheat, and opportunities. Born in a land unscarred that breathed life and possibilities. 

He was taught politics, taught economy, and to mind the rules. He was taught sacrifice, and to give what he had. He was taught responsibility, and to never stray from home. He was taught to wear a suit and mask everything in a smile. 

When he was done with being taught, he began to learn on his own.

He learned how to rebel, to fight for beliefs, for freedom, for liberty, for power, and for the pursuit of happiness. He learned his people alone came first. He learned how to hold a gun and pull the trigger. He learned the art of war and to check his back for knives. He learned, as the ground beneath his feet crumbled and his vision blurred in a horrid mess and all he can taste is iron, that the world can be a terrible, terrible place. He learned the definition of lost, suffering, and struggle. 

But he also learned how to thrive and stay strong, how to get up and dish out twice as much as he took. He learned how to be alone. He learned the world isn’t in black and white, or even gray hues, but in color. He learned how to be his people’s and his own hero. He became a new nation, united as people with liberty and justice for all under red stripes and white stars. He wasn’t a child anymore, he told himself, even if he was still young. When he opened the doors his former ‘parent’ had locked, the world flooded in. He met countries, cultures, and languages he never knew existed.

The years of building a country passed and brought forth a Great War with terrible things. It was incredible, how the world could come together to destroy each other, he had noted as he stepped into the meeting room for the first time to greet the band of allies he was pushed to. As he gazed at Britain and France talking to a man with black, pulled back hair and dressed in an red garb with in an unfamiliar style, he promised his people victory and hoped he could give it. 

The first person he ended up introducing himself to was the personification of the powerful Russia himself. Meeting him in particular was something he’s never experienced before. The nation was tall, a giant among men, pale skin shrouded by a long coat and scarf. His hair was a faint blond, paler than his own, and reminded him of Christmas snow. His sweet smile spoke of a thousand years worth of the horrors of war, quiet secrets, and dangerous mysteries. While the smile drew him close, the man’s eyes is what he found himself drowning in. They were violet lilacs and soft amethyst gems. They sent shivers down his spine and consumed his mind with sinful thoughts he hoped God could not see. It was wrong to feel this way for another man. Shamefully, passionately wrong, but maybe that’s what gave it its appeal. He had always liked to do things he should not, things anyone would look him in the eyes and tell him no for. 

 

‘No one has to know,’ He thinks one night as he sheds his self of his garments after closing the door to some random hotel room. His favorite bombers jacket gets hung on the back of a chair, the rest of his clothing is dropped onto the floor carelessly. He slides underneath his soft sheets, tangling his body in the warmth they bring. 

‘No one has to know.’ He tells himself, laying his hand against the mold of his stomach, he breathes out shakily. His face is that of the rose bushes in his front lawn and the cardinal birds that greet him each morning. He bits his lip, sneaking his hand into the covers, he grips himself like how he grips a gun; firm and resolute. A moan escapes him and his other hand jerks up to cover his mouth in an attempt to muffle the immoral, wanton noises that leave his lips. The warm pressure building in his stomach causes a whimper from him and pushes him further still. He handles himself with eager strokes, but imagines his hand is not his own. Instead, the hand that feeds his lust is bigger and more pale, fingers thicker with a stronger hold. A teasing voice whispers in his ear, spilling words he doesn’t understand completely, being from a foreign tongue. 

He shudders, whole body quaking when he finally gives. As the fantasy fades, he’s left panting in the aftermath, in the wreckage of himself. Sighing blissfully, he lays limp, enjoying the glow before what he had just done comes crashing down upon him. Good lord, what has he done. 

Instead of panicking, he only rolls over and pulls the covers up to hide the evidence. Closing his eyes, he decides to save the problem for the morning sun, too tired at the very moment to deal with what will come. His only hope is these corrupted feelings leave and God can forgive him of his sins. 

 

However; as he slips into slumber, it’s the thought of violet skies and wild lilacs that bring a small smile to his face. 

 

 

.

**Author's Note:**

> ...I don't even know how this happened, it just did. I've never written anyone jacking off before so sorry if it's bad. Also my first time writing with this fandom. But I hoped you all enjoyed anyway?
> 
> Comment your thoughts?


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